


Five times Tony confessed to Steve drugged

by Majinie



Series: Five times... [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce knows everything, But he's not the only one, Doom is a little shit, Five + 1 thing, Fluff, M/M, Tony drinks too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majinie/pseuds/Majinie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...and one time he was sober.<br/>Or: Tony shouldn't be with Steve when he's tired/drugged/drunk. He talks too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times Tony confessed to Steve drugged

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta Myrsky for enduring my horrible flashs of "I've-got-to-write-this-right-now". She's great. Go and worship her.  
> NOW.

1\. Doom's latest idea

 

This was probably the most boring meeting Tony had attended this year. Well, it was January and therefore also his first meeting this year, but that didn't make it any more interesting. He was about to fake some SHIELD-data so Fury would call him out on a mission, but when the agent found out, he would give him one hell of a debriefing and that would be even worse, so: bad idea.

But it seemed like he wouldn't have to _fake_ a mission after all. While staring out of one of the large windows of Stark – no, Avengers Tower, the millionaire spotted something silver reflecting the sunlight. He frowned and narrowed his eyes to get a closer look at it. There were two, no, three objects and they were approaching, fast.

“Mister Stark? Are you even listening?”, one of his business partners asked. She sounded as though she had repeated the same thing for at least three times now. Ah, who was he kidding, she probably had. “Mister Stark?”

“Get out”, he mumbled, not taking his eyes of the sky.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, _get out_!”, Tony repeated. “JARVIS, get me a suit here and alert Steve and Clint.”

“Already done, Sir”, the AI responded with its smooth British accent. “Miss Steele, Mr Clark, I would recommend you to leave the room for your own safety.” The two glanced at the ceiling in confusion. It was rare that anyone who was not a part of the higher ranks of Stark Industries ever saw – or heard – JARVIS in action.

“I'll translate that”, Tony said, flashing them one of his press smiles. “Move your ass out of here at this second unless you want it kicked. Get it?” And finally he was left alone. About time.

By now, the engineer could clearly make out the shape of three DoomBots. Stupid, persistent DoomBots. He hated DoomBots.

“JARVIS, where're the others? Where's my suit?”, he demanded while rising from his chair.

“Mister Rogers and agent Barton are currently in the elevator, together with the Mark 43, Sir. It will take them approximately 1.73 minutes to arrive.”

“Too long”, Tony growled. His _dear friend_ Victor (ha) had apparently gotten a few updates done because his bots were fast, much faster than before, and Stark did not like it. Not at all, because it looked like they were about to burst right though his window (the door's 50 storeys down, thank you very much for using it) in about 3...

2...

“Oh shit.” The engineer did the first thing that came to his mind and took shelter under the table. _Wait, I could just have left the room..._

1...

_I'm screwed._

The sound of the shattering window was like a knife in his ears and tiny shards flying across the room cut his skin, leaving small, red lines.

Shortly after there was a mechanical hiss and Tony smelled something... rather unpleasant, burning in his lungs. Wait a moment, was Doom trying to poison him with gas?!

“Shouldn't have destroyed the window for that”, he muttered under his table. “Really, that's awfully planned 'cause your gas is gonna float out and –” A cough cut him off and maybe, just maybe he should get the hell out of here because he was starting to feel dizzy.

Where was his suit? And where were the DoomBots? There should have been something happening. Crap programming, obviously, otherwise he'd probably already be dead. Maybe he should give Doom special courses later.

Still coughing, Tony peeked from under the table to find the three bots unmoving. It looked as though they were shut down. Worth a shot.

The engineer stood up from under the table (and, of course, he hit his head in the process) and stumbled towards the exit, making a mental note to look at those DoomBots later. He was fairly sure he had missed something important.

When he pushed the door open he saw Steve and Clint hurrying towards him and grinned reassuringly, waving a hand.

“Tony, are you okay?”, Steve called out while coming closer.

“Yup, everything's peachy”, he answered, laughed, tripped and fell over.

 

~*~

 

The next thing he remembered was being carried by a strong, careful arms. Bridal style. He couldn't have been unconscious for more than twenty seconds because they had not even reached the elevator, but the world spun around him.

“Steeeeeeve?”, he asked, drawing the word out long.

“Tony, you're awake?”, the soldier asked.

“Um... I think so”, the engineer muttered. “Steve, am I dying?” He felt the other wince.

“Of course you're not.” Steve sounded fierce.

“Steve? Did you know I had a teen crush on you?”, Tony asked, inhaling deep. Steve smelled good.

“That's kinda out of nowhere. But, um, yes. I figured.”

“Oh. _How_?”

“I saw your room, Tony. There's a bunch of merchandise stuff. I think I even saw an action figure. Of myself. That's sort of creepy.”

“I've got three.” The elevator doors closed and a soft mechanical whir was the only sound in the small cabin until the engineer spoke up again: “Steve?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Are you sure I'm not dying? Cause I feel dizzy. And I'm tired and...”

“You are _not_ dying”, Steve interrupted. His grip tightened and the millionaire felt himself smile. “You're not even going to fall asleep.”

“I haven't written my eulogy yet. And I might still have a crush on you”, he muttered.

“That's fine. Just stay awake.” The voice of the taller man sounded almost frantic. “I'm sure Bruce has got an antidote. Clint told me there was gas, but I'm sure you can't have gotten a high dose because of the broken window so it's probably not deadly.”

“Cap, take me seriously”, Tony complained weakly. His not-so-stern glare was returned out of bright blue eyes.

“I'm taking you seriously. You wouldn't believe _how_ serious I'm taking you right now. I mean, I'm carrying you bridal style.” The millionaire groaned, closed his eyes and while his brain was still working on a sassy reply, he fell asleep.

 

 

2\. Scotch

 

“I'm winning”, Tony declared and hiccuped.

“I'm not feenished yet”, Natasha responded. Her cheeks were red from the alcohol, as well as Tony's, and she raised a glass of scotch. “You don't ween when I'm not feenished.”

“But I'm _full_ ”, the engineer whined. “And you're not drinkin' more than me. S'impossible.”

“Y'know what vodka meens?”, the spy chuckled. “It meens _water of life_. I drank it from my momma's breests when I was a beebie.” Drunk as she was, she couldn't hold back her Russian accent and the soft i's sounded funny. Tony snickered (or sneeckered).

“Y'still can't win”, he said. “'tis my tower and I ain't losin' here.”

“You'll both stop drinking now”, Steve intervened. He reached forward and snatched the bottle from the counter. His two teammates turned around simultaneously with a pout, but the captain didn't allow another word and said: “Clint, get Natasha to bed. I'll take care of Tony.”

The archer (who was drunk, too, but not _that_ drunk) nodded and got off his chair while Steve turned towards Tony.

“C'mon, Steve”, the engineer slurred, “y'know I love ya, babe, but I _need_ to win this now. Let us finish this.”

“You're drunk as hell”, came the dry response. “You both win, and now come to bed.”

“Wait, what?”

Steve groaned and rubbed his face to hide his blush. One day this guy would drive him insane. “Not _that_ way. Now move.” Grumbling, the engineer rose from his bar stool. Steve managed to catch him in the last second before he hit the ground.

“I think I'm going to puke”, the millionaire told him.

“Don't you _dare_.” He picked the other up (“Ah, bridal style again?” - “Shut up and don't puke.”) and carried him towards the elevator. Tony hummed approvingly and tilted his head, snuggled into Steve's shirt and smiled.

“You're lovely, Cap”, he stated.

Steve didn't reply. He carried the millionaire to his room, laid him down on the bed and pulled off his shoes before he covered him with the blanket. When he was finished, Tony was half asleep.

“Love ya, Steve”, he muttered.

“Of course.”

 

 

3\. Painkillers

 

“Bruce, _please_ give me painkillers”, Tony begged. “I think I'll _die_ if I don't get some.” The doctor sighed.

“You're exaggerating.”

“I'm _dying!_ ”

“You shouldn't use them that much.”

“I've got _three_ cracked ribs”, the engineer groaned. “I think that's legitimate. Come on.”

“Steve's going to visit you.”

“That has nothing to do with my painkillers.”

“You said yourself that you talk way too much when you're on medication”, Banner remarked.

“When did I say that?”

“On medication.”

“Figures.”

Tony was silent for a moment. “That's got nothing to do with Steve though. Not that I'd have secrets from him or something.” _Aside from a stupid crush maybe, but it's not like_ you _'d know that._

The doctor gave him a look that spoke volumes, although Tony didn't quite get _what_ exactly. Just that it was a lot and it had probably to do with him saying he didn't have secrets from Cap. Not that Bruce knew – he wasn't that obvious, was he?

“Fine. Take them. Would you sign a contract that you do this on your own risk?”

“I'm not signing contracts on medication unless Pepper makes me.”

“Bummer. Well then, here you go.”

 

~*~

 

When Steve came in ten minutes later, Bruce had already left and Tony felt light-headed and happy. He had to ask the doctor what this stuff was exactly.

“Hey Steve”, he greeted grinning and waved at the other man. “How's things?” The soldier frowned at him.

“You shouldn't move your arm that much. It affects your ribs. Please tell me you're not on painkillers.”

“I'm on painkillers”, Tony told him, beaming. Steve sighed and took his seat next to the white bed.

“You know, I should probably tell you you were reckless and it's stupid to risk your life like that –”

“Please don't.”

“ –but since Fury is going to debrief us later and you'll forget this anyway because of the meds, I think I won't.”

“Thanks. Yeah, so maybe it wasn't my best idea to go on a mission with one hell of a hangover. But you were there, too, so I couldn't stay at home, right?”

“How does that make sense?”

“Did you know Bruce thinks I talk too much when I'm on painkillers?”, the millionaire asked.

Steve grinned and answered: “We all think that and you don't even need painkillers for that. Never seemed to bother you much.”

“It doesn't. Wait.” Tony pouted. “You tell me I talk too much? That's nonsense 'cause I definitely don't talk too much. A lot, probably, but not too much, right? I can _never_ talk too much, you should be grateful for the privilege to listen to my beautiful voice. There are people who would pay me to talk to them. Hell, there _are_ people paying me for talking to them, so you even get free service and--”

“Point proven.”

“Damn.” The engineer chuckled. “But I don't think my problem with painkillers is that I talk too much. More likely it's what I say.” He made a thoughtful pause, reminding himself not to say anything stupid. “And it's a little like being drunk because I don't remember _what_ I said sometimes. Maybe I already told Bruce all my secrets when he treated me and I don't even know. Wait, that would explain his strange expression before. Shit. Oh god, did I tell him that I...”

“Tony, I believe you're thinking aloud”, Steve stated and the millionaire immediately stopped speaking. That had been a close shot.

“Uh, possibly. Besides, did I say anything stupid while I was drunk yesterday?”, he asked, changing the topic. Steve winced and avoided eye contact as he murmured: “Not, um, that I'd remember anything.” He was fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

“So I _did_ say something stupid”, Tony clarified and – was the soldier blushing? Oh fuck. “Have I been mean?”

“Not... exactly”, the soldier murmured and then cleared his throat. “Nothing you need to worry about, really.”

“That sounds disturbing. Don't keep secrets from me, you can't do this”, the millionaire complained, but he wasn't really serious. This stuff was far too amazing to let him be _serious_. He felt like he was floating on a big, fluffy cloud.

“Apparently, I can”, Steve responded.

“You're _mean._ ”

“Possibly.”

“Let's make a trade.” Tony beamed.

“What... kind of trade?”, the soldier asked cautiously.

“You tell me, and I tell you something in exchange.” He giggled. Ahhh, these pills were heaven. Little happy pills. He was on cloud nine. At least.

“I... don't think that's a good idea”, Steve said slowly. The engineer extended a finger and poked his nose, not paying attention to the other's confused look as he replied: “Oh, but it _is_! Look, we'll both get something out of this, right?” The room started to blur out slowly. He had said _painkillers_ , not _sleeping pills_ , right? Damn it, Bruce.

“Steeeeeve, I'm dizzy!”, he whined. Anyway, he felt the smile creep back on his features again. The world was light and happy and... “Hehee.”

“You're starting to worry me”, the captain told him.

“Just the paaiiinkilleeers”, Tony trilled.

“Now you're _really_ worrying me.”

“Awwww, you're sooo cute, Stevie”, he chuckled.

“I take that back, you're okay.”

“Hehee.”

“Stop that, it's creepy.”  
  
“Heheeee.”  
  
“Come on, Tony, just go to sleep. These things do horrible things to you. I'm _never_ letting you out on a mission hungover again”, Steve mumbled.

“You can't just _leave_ me here!”, the millionaire protested. 

“Ah, can't I?”

“Not when _you're_ going! Someone has to protect you after all.”

“ _You_ are the reckless idiot.”

“I'm offended.”

“Tony, I'm not even going anywhere. Really, sleep.” Steve sighed. Sometimes, just sometimes, being with Tony was _very_ exhausting. _Especially_ when he was on painkillers and god-knew-what-else.

The engineer grabbed the other's wrist and blinked a few times to focus his gaze.

“Steve, promise you're not going”, he mumbled. Sighing, the soldier pulled his hand off his arm gently to clasp it with both of his own. Great, the fluffy cloud was gone, now he was scared. Was it usually like this? He wasn't sure, just kept staring into Steve's sincere blue eyes while awaiting his reply.

“I'm not going. Jeez, _you're_ the one who's injured, stop worrying about _me_.”

“Promise. I need you to stay.” Something was in this stuff that made him honest. “I don't know what I'd do if you'd go.” His eyes fell shut.

“Alright, I stay if you stop talking. Promise.”

“We've got a deal, Stevie.”

 

 

4\. Asgardian wine

 

Steve was drunk.

Tony was drunk.

Thor was drunk.

Basically, _everybody_ was drunk. Except Bruce, because Bruce didn't do drinking.Because of... obvious reasons.

“'s your first time, right?”, Tony asked, grinning suggestively as he bumped against Steve's shoulders.

“Tony”, Clint said, sparing Steve the duty to think about the double meaning of the millionaire's words, “stop chatting up Captain America.”

“Why should I?”, the engineer asked.

Steve sat at the table, staring at the liquid in his glass, and followed the conversation half-mindedly. His state was, mildly put... interesting. He was surprised by the sudden easiness of things, yet he was not drunk enough to do anything he'd regret. Steve was a soldier and thus he liked having control over a situation.

“Ain't we all a lil' gay for Captain 'Merica?”, Tony demanded and whoops, Steve felt like he had missed some part of this dialogue, somewhere on the road. So much for keeping control. He took another sip out of his glass and watched the engineer looking around at the small table, then huff in frustration. “Y'all”, he made a gesture with his glass, “are just afraid to admit it. You're _all_ gay for Captain America. Except 'Tasha, please don't kill me.” More silence. “Alright, _I_ am a little gay for Cap, okay? Or more like, pretty much very –“

“'s enough information, Tony”, Clint interrupted. “Thor, this stuff _nails_ it.”

While the other inhabitants of the table returned to their conversations, Tony turned towards Steve and poked a finger into his chest. He looked up at the soldier out of bright, brown eyes and with a big smile.

“Even if they don't take it seriously”, he looked almost thoughtful for a moment before he continued, “you should know I'm more than just a little gay for you.”

 

 

5\. Truth serum

 

Steve was running. Running, like, really fast. He ran towards the plain, grey building at the end of the street.

 _Stupid Tony_.

His heart was pounding in his chest, only partly of the speed he was maintaining. If he hadn't been, well, Steve Rogers, he would have been cursing constantly under his breath.

_Stupid, stupid Tony._

Just how the hell did that idiot manage to get himself abducted from his own tower?!

“Captain, _wait_ for me”, Natasha piped up over the comm. She sounded out of breath. “SHIELD hacked the security feed in there and it's guarded. You can't just walk in there.”

“I believe I can”, the soldier responded, but he slowed down nonetheless and came to a halt about a hundred metres away from the building. As casually as possible he leaned against a column plastered with posters. Yes. Because he was so very inconspicuous in his black SHIELD gear. Good plan.

About a minute later, Natasha caught up with him and started to speak in short, clipped sentences, explaining their plan. It was only the two of them, because Hulk or Thor would have been just too obvious, and although they could have taken Clint with them, two people were just much less likely to attract unwanted attention than three.

“Alright, let's get going”, Steve said.

 

~*~

 

With a forceful kick, he ripped the door out of its hinges.

“Hey, Cap”, a faint voice muttered from the other side of the room. Steve's breath hitched as he spotted Tony. The millionaire was tied to a chair and looked outright _horrible_. His face was bruised and bloody and he was shirtless, although the arc reactor was – _thank god_ – still intact and in place. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

“I think I can tell”, Steve murmured while he hurried towards the engineer, observing him quickly. His lower lip was cracked, there was a laceration on his temple and some smaller cuts and bruises, but nothing fatal apparently. He knelt down in front of him to untie his legs that were bound to the chair. “How do you feel?”

“Terrible.” Surprised, the soldier glanced up. Tony was grimacing as if he was really pissed at himself for admitting this so openly – he didn't usually do this, did he? “Sorry, they kinda drugged me”, he explained.”Truth serum.” Steve sucked in a sharp breath.

“What did you –”

“I didn't tell'em anything”, the millionaire interrupted with a little, mirthless smile. “They only just got the stuff about fifteen minutes ago and then you showed up and the alarms went off. Poof, gone they were. Bad organisation.” The captain stood up and circled the chair to loosen the ropes on the backside. “Funny thing is: this is definitely true 'cause I'm unable to lie right now.”

“For once”, Steve added and finally he was done with the boundaries. The other let out a faint groan as he rubbed his wrists, took a deep breath and stood up. He managed one, then two careful steps, then he let out a surprised little “Oh” and just fell to his side. Steve caught him just in time before he hit the floor and the engineer let out a pained yelp as he was seized around his ribcage.

Steve gave him an apologetic look that was acknowledged with a faint smile and a nod. He picked the other up from the floor; if he walked by himself, they wouldn't be out here until tomorrow. Tony wiggled his eyebrows.

“Bridal style again, huh? I get the feeling you really like that.” The soldier rolled his eyes, but gave no comment. Tony didn't continue either, he just closed his eyes and smiled, looking tired and exhausted and obviously trusting Steve to get him to safety.

“Tony”, the captain murmured quietly. The engineer gave a small “Uh-huh” and glanced up at him. “I need you to know that I really hate myself for taking advantage of you like this.” The chocolate brown eyes widened in confusion.

“What? The millionaire moved a little in his arms, blinked. “What do you mean, taking advantage?” He became wary, defensive.

“Did you mean it?”, Steve asked. He looked forward, didn't meet the other's eyes. “When you said you loved me. Did you mean that?” He heard Tony take a deep breath, followed by a few seconds of silence. Then a quiet reply, almost only breathed.

“I did.”

 

 

+1 Sober

 

Tony was hunched over the bar in his penthouse, pushing a glass of scotch back and forth. He wasn't actually in the mood to drink, but honestly, he didn't know what else to do. He hadn't got the concentration to build something, not the patience to do paper work, not the energy to join his teammates, least of all Steve. He was fucked, so fucking fucked.

He remembered telling Steve that he 'might still have a little crush on him' during the incident with the DoomBots, but he hadn't actually said he loved him, had he? Just how often had he been drunk during the past few weeks? Thor's Asgardian stuff had had some heavy effect...

Groaning, he dropped his head onto the counter. Steve hadn't said another word about the topic. He hadn't said much words at all after his confession, just carried him out and left him at Bruce's care. Tony wished the marble of the counter could ease his headache, but through the bandage on his forehead he couldn't feel its coldness.

Suddenly he heard the mechanical whir of the elevator, followed by the sound of the opening doors, but no footsteps following. He considered looking up but wasn't quite sure he wanted to. He wasn't really in the mood to meet anyone right now.

“You shouldn't drink that much.” Steve. Oh fuck. The engineer cursed himself for the startled, fast pounding of his heart. _Like a damn lovesick teenager._

“Yeah, I heard I'm talking too much when I'm drunk, right?” He didn't lift his head from where it lied between his arms, resting on the bar. Steve should go away. It wasn't that he _wanted_ him gone, but he didn't want to talk to him right now either. Or... ever.

The soldier didn't respond, but the other could hear his footsteps approaching until they came to a halt beside him, then a clink of glass. Apparently the scotch had been set down out of his reach. And he hadn't even had a sip yet.

“What do you want?”, Tony murmured. He could hear the other clear his throat and could imagine him fidgeting awkwardly. Cute, lovely Steve. Ah, no, wrong chain of thoughts.

“I just wanted to...” A pause. “Would you look at me?”

“No.”

A sigh.

“Oh, come on, Tony. _Please_?” The engineer huffed. “ _Pretty_ please?” He hesitated another five seconds before he raised his head and glanced to the side.

“That's cheating and you know it.”

Steve smiled. “Yup.”

“Bastard.”

“Yeah, about that.” He cleared his throat again. “I... wanted to apologize.” Ah, god, please not that. “Sorry. I was...” He lowered his eyes to the floor and really, and with his hands in his pockets at a loss for a better place, he looked like a kicked puppy which was just not _fair_ because he'd been the one to screw up, right?! “I was awful. I... I mean... It won't happen again, okay?” He glanced up at Tony through his tight lashes. The millionaire snorted.

“It's not like there was anything left you need to know now”, he stated bitterly and turned away, rested his chin in his hands, gaze drifting off into nothing.

“Listen, Tony, I'm _really_ sorry, I was just so –“

“Duly noticed”, the engineer interrupted. “Now go to sleep.” He wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. Frustration, anger and disappointment constricted his throat painfully.

“Listen –“

“No, Steve, _you_ listen.” He straightened himself on the bar stool and turned towards the captain. “All I want right now is to get drunk and that's not pretty, so I bet you don't wanna stick around. Again, just _go to sleep_ or whatever you'll do, but get out!”

“You shouldn't drink that mu–“

“What the fuck do you suggest I should do?!” Now he was shouting. “It's _my_ life, quit fussing over –“ He went silent in the moment the scotch glass shattered against the closest wall and stared at Steve with wide, shocked eyes.

“How about”, the soldier gritted out between clenched teeth, “you just _listen_ for _once_ in your life?” Tony did. He was too surprised to do anything else. “Do you honestly think I'd do something like that if I didn't care?”

“I – I didn't...”

“For Christ's sake, Tony, _no_!” Steve ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling. “I wanted, I _needed_ to know if you were honest, because you said so yourself, you're a playboy, and damn me if I fell for _that_ , 'cause seriously, Tony, I know you're good at what you do.”

He locked his eyes with the engineer's again and Tony stared, one hand gripping the counter tightly, the other playing nervously with the edge of the bar stool. He _could_ say something now. But he'd ruin it, definitely. But saying nothing would be wrong, too. Goddammit, he was a hookup-person, he usually didn't even do _love_.

“You know, Tony...” The millionaire took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for any insult that could be thrown at him. “...for someone calling himself a genius you're ridiculously slow.”

Tony blinked. Blinked again. Steve groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“God, you're an _idiot_ ”, he sighed. “Why do I have to do everything myself?” He crossed the two steps of distance between them and grabbed Tony by his collar, pulled him of his chair. The engineer's breath hitched.

Tony wasn't naïve. He knew exactly what was going on, he'd done it so many times it was impossible not to understand it. But anyway, his mind didn't really manage to catch up with the events, not when he felt Steve's tight grip on his upper arms, not even when he felt the soldier's surprisingly soft lips on his.

Only when Steve pulled away and looked at Tony out of his sincere blue eyes, he started to get a grasp on reality again.

“Get it now?”, the soldier asked quietly.

“I think I do”, he breathed, raised his arms to lock them behind Steve's neck and pull him down again, this time kissing for all he was worth. The soldier's hands slid down to his waist, holding him tightly, and Tony learned that Steve was indeed a good kisser – not in an experienced way, but passionate. It was like he was literally carrying his heart on his tongue.

When they parted, Tony proved once again he just couldn't keep his mouth shut: “But seriously, when did I tell you?”

Steve grinned, shaking his head, and lifted his hand between them. Raising one finger after another, he counted: “When Doom gassed you, you told me you had a crush on me.” First finger. “After your drinking competition with Natasha, I brought you to bed and you said it.” Second finger. “Then, the mission fail when you were hungover and laid in the infirmary afterwards, completely stuffed with painkillers. You made me promise never to leave you.” Slightly blushing, he raised a third finger. “Then, when Thor brought his Asgardian stuff – you told everybody you're a little gay for Captain America.” _And they hadn't told him. Traitor_. The fourth finger. “And the last time – yeah, I guess you remember that one.” He averted his eyes and stretched out his thumb before he let the hand drop to his side again.

Tony chuckled weakly. “That means I shouldn't be around you when I'm drunk, drugged or think I'm going to die. So, basically never.”

Blond eyebrows wandered up. “But that would be a pity.”

The engineer grinned. “Right. Then, can I say it again? Sober?”

“I'm not going to stop you.”

“All right.” Tony took a deep breath and noticed speaking the words was not half as easy as he had thought. “I...” He looked into Steve's bright blue eyes. He had said it before, why was it so difficult now? _Okay, Tony, you're good with these things, stop stammering_. In one breath he rushed out. “I love you.”

“See?”, Steve asked, smiling softly. “Not all that difficult, was it?”

He didn't leave Tony the chance to drop any sarcastic comment though before he shut him up again in the most effective way he knew. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even sorry.  
> Also, I'd love some feedback, because comments are the author's motivation... ;)


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